A Recipe for Disaster
by Archaeologist
Summary: Arthur realizes that he will always be second best in Gwen's eyes. But not in Merlin's.
1. A Recipe for Disaster

**Summary:** Arthur realizes that he will always be second best in Gwen's eyes.  
 **Author's Notes:** Starting at Season 2, 'Lancelot and Guinevere'  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Arthur had wanted to rescue Gwen from the bandits, had defied his father to do it, dragging along an ever-protesting Merlin, but when they arrived, Lancelot was already there. Self-sacrificing Lance, brave and dashing as only he could be. Even tied up, he looked every inch the hero. How could Arthur compete with that?

It would seem he didn't need to. After Lancelot fled like a thief in the night, Gwen's tears were enough for Arthur to know the true depth of her feelings. Arthur was left with nothing but the dregs of her regard. He knew then that he'd be forever her second choice.

He could fight for her, try to win her back, but that way lay madness. It was a recipe that would end in heartache. At least now, he knew he'd have to look elsewhere. He'd have to try and find someone else, someone who'd love him with their whole heart, not just begging them for small scraps of affection, but always loving and loved.

It seemed insurmountable, impossible.

But at least with Merlin at his side, he wouldn't be alone.


	2. Welcome Home

**Title:** Welcome home: Part 2 of A Recipe for Disaster  
 **Author's Notes:** Still at Season 2, 'Lancelot and Guinevere'  
 **Summary:** Merlin wouldn't shut up.

* * *

All the way back to Camelot, Merlin wouldn't shut up.

Arthur was still feeling raw about Lancelot and Guinevere's obvious relationship, the knowledge that he would always be second best, and Merlin's inanities just made things worse. The fact was made unbearable when Merlin kept patting Arthur's leg as he walked next to him, as if to give comfort, and whispering every ten seconds that he'd always be there for him. Arthur didn't want to hear it. It was just too much.

When the castle came into view, snarling, Arthur kicked his horse ahead, shouting that he'd go find Morgana and let her know, leaving both of them to find their own way home.

He knew that it wasn't very chivalrous but he wasn't feeling particularly generous at the moment. He might be excused for wanting to wallow a bit in self-pity before putting the whole sordid affair behind him.

But it didn't help that as he glanced back, he could see the hurt in Merlin's eyes. In a way, it was worse than Guinevere's frown. At least Arthur could excuse himself for snubbing a woman who'd obviously rejected him, but Merlin really didn't deserve such treatment.

And wasn't that thought unsettling. The very idea that Merlin's unhappiness was more important to Arthur than Guinevere's disdain was confusing, disturbing. Absurd.

It was a good thing they were home. At least there, Arthur could lock his door and come to grips with everything that had happened. He could go back to treating Guinevere as merely a servant in Morgana's household and Merlin as… well, Arthur's fool. And all would reset to the way things should be.


	3. Can't Believe It

**Title:** Can't Believe It: Part 3 of A Recipe for Disaster  
 **Author's Notes:** Past 'The Witchfinder' in Season 2  
 **Summary:** Arthur would have to fight his feelings for Merlin. His life was complicated enough.

* * *

It had been a hellish year once Lancelot left. There were magical creatures attacking Camelot, trolls marrying his father – and wasn't that a kick in the head, a witchfinder accusing Merlin of all people of practicing sorcery, tournaments won and lost, and bandits, always bandits.

But it was the affairs of the heart that weighed most heavily. Arthur tried to put what he'd felt for Guinevere behind him. She'd started to talk to him once about what had happened, asking for his forgiveness, but whatever they'd had was gone and they both knew it. The conversation had petered out, and when all was said and done, Arthur realized that it was for the best.

Because he'd started to notice something else, something not troubling but odd, absurd, warm, and Arthur didn't know what to make of it.

Merlin kept watching him. Not with the blank look of servants who knew their place - Merlin had never learned it and Arthur preferred it that way - but with a kind of softness in his eyes. And once Arthur noticed, he noticed hard.

Merlin was always looking at him, giving him a quick smile or a fond shake of his head when Arthur stared back or yelled at him or threw something in Merlin's general direction. But when Merlin must have thought Arthur wasn't looking, Merlin's eyes held something deeper, sweeter, more meaningful. If Arthur didn't know better, he'd say it was love.

It would have been ridiculous, laughable even, except that Arthur was beginning to feel something more for Merlin than mere affection. He thought Merlin beautiful, had begun to write odes in his head on the most ludicrous topics, of Merlin's ears - of all things, of the shape of his mouth, of how soft his lips might feel against Arthur's own. Begun to dream of insults turning into heated passion, of skin on skin, and rough hands exploring.

Arthur knew he'd have to fight it. A female servant as a passing fancy was one thing. Merlin was quite another.

It should be simple enough, and soon over, but when did Merlin ever make anything easy for him?


	4. Second Chances

**Title:** Second chances: Part 4 of A Recipe for Disaster  
 **Author's Notes:** During Season 2, 'The Lady of the Lake'  
 **Summary:** Merlin stopped looking at him.

* * *

Merlin stopped looking at him.

Something must have happened – because what didn't in Camelot, magic attacking them every time Arthur breathed, or giant winged cats murdering people or his father marrying a troll and no, Arthur would never get over that. But something had made Merlin sad. He was too silent, creeping around like he'd lost his best friend – and that was another issue because Arthur thought he was Merlin's best friend and hoping for more than friendship if truth be told.

Of course, Arthur reacted as only he could, by throwing water at Merlin and mocking him for scrubbing the floors because honestly Merlin was rubbish at it and they both knew it. But Arthur couldn't just give Merlin a hug and squeeze out the truth about why Merlin wasn't being… well Merlin. That wasn't how it went between them.

Finally, though, Arthur had had enough. Expectations or not, seeing Merlin so unhappy was making Arthur crazy. And if a hug was what Merlin needed, then so be it.

Grabbing Merlin, roughening up his hair, squeezing him a bit and then letting go when Merlin gave out a girlish squeak, seemed to do the trick. There was a smile there, hinting around his mouth, and Merlin's gaze was finally, finally lifting up to Arthur's own. And in that moment, Arthur thought that perhaps they'd been given a second chance for happiness.


	5. A Kiss is just a Kiss

**Title:** A Kiss is just a Kiss: Part 5 of A Recipe for Disaster  
 **Author's Notes:** Season 2, 'Sweet Dreams'  
 **Summary:** Arthur woke to someone kissing him.

* * *

When Arthur woke, he found there were fervent lips against his, searing, demanding, desperate. Warm and wet and just a hint of tongue, too. For a moment, he let it happen, dove into it and gave back as good as he was getting.

But when he reached up, wanting to cup the face of whoever was kissing him with such yearning and draw them closer, he found not soft skin and curls but a hint of beard. And large ears.

Arthur jerked back, out of reach. Merlin was standing there, eyes closed, his mouth red from the kisses he'd given Arthur. Merlin, his servant, Merlin, his friend, and the man he'd dreamt of at night. Merlin, the completely inappropriate wished-for lover.

For a moment, Arthur didn't know what to say. Even when Merlin opened his eyes and began to babble regret into the chasm between them, Arthur couldn't focus on words. He was still remembering the kiss, still longing to cross the distance and feel that warm mouth against his again.

Finally, his mind caught up with the reality of the situation. "What the hell was that?"

"Ummm…." Looking sheepish, Merlin stepped back. "You were enchanted?"

"Into kissing you?" Arthur wanted to turn whatever this was into a joke, try and put it behind them. Their relationship would never be the same if he admitted the truth. "Merlin, even a sorcerer wouldn't be that ridiculous."

"It's not… don't you remember wanting to marry Lady Vivian?" Merlin was wringing his hands, a sure sign of upset. But Arthur wasn't certain if it was the insult or the fact they'd just been kissing, hot and heavy, a few moments ago.

Merlin wasn't making sense, though. Arthur thought Vivian a foolish, vain woman, and he'd never look her way, not for all the gold in Camelot. But then, horror of horrors, he remembered.

He _had_ been enchanted, ever since he'd found blonde hair under his pillow a few nights before. He'd been in a fog, seeing only Vivian, wanting only Vivian. And then they'd been caught kissing and wasn't that something that he'd want to forget and then the challenge and now his chest felt like it had been crushed.

Stepping closer, hands pressing against Arthur's armour, Merlin said, "You've been fighting King Olaf for Vivian's hand. He's hit you several times with mace and quarterstaff. If you aren't careful, he could kill you." He looked as if he were about to cry. "Please, Arthur, tell me it worked, tell me you're cured."

Arthur shook his head. He hated when Merlin was like this. "I'm fine. No marrying Vivian or anyone else, for that matter." When Merlin gave a long relieved sigh, Arthur said, "What did you use to stop the enchantment?"

Merlin just stood there a moment, mouth agape. Then he looked down and mumbled something.

Arthur wasn't having it. "What?"

Clearing his throat, still staring down, Merlin said, "True love's kiss."

It would have been hilarious if it had been anyone else but Merlin seemed serious. "True love's kiss? What?"

"Gaius found a cure but it involved kissing. True love's kiss and we weren't sure if you loved anyone, well not since Gwen, but we had to try because otherwise Olaf was going to kill you so we arranged to have some… people kiss you." Merlin looked up then, giving Arthur a tentative smile. "You seemed to enjoy it."

"You had people kissing me?! The Crown Prince." Arthur was horrified. If it got back to his father, it could be disastrous.

"Not to worry. We told them that you were trying to raise money for charity and that anyone who wanted a chance to kiss the prince had to pay a silver penny. It worked pretty well, too. They were lined up all the way back to the gate. We raised over a hundred sovereigns." Merlin's grin was idiotic but then when was it not.

"What?!" This was getting worse and worse. "How many people know about this? Does my father?"

Merlin nodded. "He seemed upset but Gaius explained the real reason and the king said fine." Flushing a little, Merlin said, "He didn't say fine in a _fine_ way but kind of annoyed. But then when he saw the money, he was quite happy about it. He thought maybe you could do that again next year?"

Arthur would never live it down. What a disaster.

"Is everyone in the kingdom insane? Did you think that maybe I didn't want to kiss anyone?" Arthur supposed yelling wasn't going to help, but Merlin deserved it. He should have thought of something less ridiculous.

"Arthur, you were going to _die_. I would have done anything to stop it." Biting at his lip, eyes narrowed, Merlin was staring daggers at Arthur. "Besides, I thought you'd enjoy the kissing."

"I don't remember any of it, well except for you kissing me." Arthur scowled at him, pointing his finger in Merlin's direction. "Did you pay like everyone else?"

Merlin flushed scarlet. "You utter clotpoll." Then he stomped over, shoving Arthur's hand out of the way. "Take it out of my wages." And then Merlin leaned in, gathered Arthur's face into his palms, and kissed him.

An amazing kiss, quite better than the first one. Full of passion and lust and heat. There was wet and more tongue and Merlin was grinding against him and it was glorious.

Well, it would have been except for the horrible agony in his chest. He felt as if he'd been hit with a mace, and as Merlin pressed harder, he couldn't help a little grunt of pain.

Groaning didn't stop Merlin, though, and the kiss was everything Arthur could have wanted, he would have preferred it in a bed and both of them naked and unhurt.

But he had to push Merlin away. "Stop, stop. My chest." As Merlin let go, Arthur curled into himself, trying to breathe through the torment.

Merlin's hands were on him again, more physician's hands than lover's this time. "Arthur, I'm sorry. I'll get Gaius. That mace strike must have done more damage than we thought." And he raced out of the tent, leaving Arthur alone.

Eventually the pain subsided, and while he sat there waiting for Gaius's return, Arthur thought about what had just happened, the kisses, the lines of people paying, and Merlin's embrace.

Merlin had said that true love's kiss would cure him and he was cured and Merlin had been the last person to kiss him. And logic would dictate…

Oh.


	6. Heat

**Title:** Heat: Part 6 of Recipe for Disaster  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Author's Notes:** After Season 2, 'Sweet Dreams'  
 **Summary:** Arthur finally figures out what he wants. About time!

* * *

It would never be said that once Arthur figured something out, that he wouldn't act upon it. It might take a while. Planning for something as important as returning true love's kiss – and maybe something more - required stealth and determination and a bit of luck. And not getting found out by his father who would not take kindly to Arthur's choice of companion. Besides, Arthur was trained in the art of warfare and tactics and wasn't love a bit of that after all?

Besides, Merlin seemed subdued, his manner thoughtful for weeks after Vivian and her father left. It was almost as if he were thinking – which is ridiculous because Merlin didn't think, he just let whatever was in his head come tumbling out of that mouth of his. But it could be that he was regretting the kiss in the tent.

Arthur hoped not. But he also didn't want to make himself look a fool so he watched and waited and planned, just in case.

Then Merlin blind-sided him.

Bathing, Merlin scrubbing his back as usual, Arthur wasn't paying as much attention as he should have. The quiet sound of a fire crackling nearby, the splash of water as he leaned into Merlin's touch, a distant bell tolling the late hour, was relaxing, almost hypnotic. When Merlin moved away, intent on something or other out of his line of sight, Arthur ignored him, sunk deeper into the warm water, tilting his head back, and closing his eyes.

For a moment, everything seemed still, as if the world were holding its breath, and then someone – who else but Merlin - brushed a kiss against his hair.

Arthur lay there, not moving, pretending not to realize what Merlin had just done, waiting to see what else he might do. There was a second kiss, more a breath of air against his skin and then Arthur felt Merlin start to move away.

Sitting up, grabbing onto Merlin's sleeve, Arthur stared up at him. The man was blushing, ears red as the fire behind him, but he didn't say anything, just knelt there, biting at his lip.

That mouth. He'd wanted to plunder it for weeks, and now, there it was, wet and red and inviting.

Not caring how much water he was spilling onto the floor, he grabbed Merlin's shirt and pulled him closer. For a breathless moment, they just watched each other. Then Merlin licked his lip, perhaps to soothe, perhaps to invite, but it was enough.

Arthur acted without thought. One hand curled around Merlin's neck, Arthur dove into that luscious mouth of his, groans and want pouring into the wet between them. He ignored the inevitable muffled protest, as purpose-hungry, he hauled Merlin into the tub.

There was water everywhere, Merlin squirming in his arms, soaked to the skin. There were insults mixed in with the kisses, muffled against his mouth, and a struggle to escape. But Arthur held on tight, his strength overwhelming Merlin's. And with another long, wet kiss, Merlin sunk into him.

For the longest time, they huddled there, the tub uncomfortably tight, the water cooling, but it didn't matter. Arthur felt like he was flying, soaring on kisses and skin and pressure. And Merlin was giving back as good as he got, rolling his hips against Arthur's own, his hands everywhere.

In the back of his mind, he was already planning of stripping Merlin bare, licking and touching and making him groan. But there was a tub and clothes in the way and a bed would be so much better.

When he finally took a moment to breathe, he pushed Merlin back. "Stop, stop."

That red-swollen mouth of Merlin's was already babbling regret as he scrambled out of the tub. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I'm… but you… I'm… it won't happen again."

In the firelight, Merlin looked a drowned rat more than a lover but Arthur had never wanted anyone so much in his life.

Shaking his head, Arthur grabbed onto Merlin's wrist before he could flee. "Merlin, what am I always telling you?"

"That I'm an idiot." It is often said that the eyes were windows to the soul and Merlin's eyes were as devastated as Arthur had ever seen. Face first red, then pale as moonlight, Merlin looked as though he were about to break into a thousand pieces. "That I'm the worst servant in the five kingdoms, that anyone would be better at it than me, that I'm always doing it wrong, that…"

"Merlin." Arthur had to stop him before this turned into shouts and tears and something unrepairable between them. "Merlin, you are all that." Merlin was already turning away, his hand going up to his mouth as if trying not to cry. "But you are also wise and steadfast and true. And if you promise not to mention a word of this, I'll tell you a secret…. that I know about true love's kiss."

Looking even more distraught, Merlin shook his head. "It's just a fairy tale."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Arthur stood up, climbing out of the tub, and grabbing a towel, began to dry off. He didn't bother to hide his desire, standing proud and heavy against his belly. "I was hoping it wasn't just a story."

Merlin's gaze kept flicking here and there, staring down at his feet, at the tub, at the fire, anywhere but Arthur's direction. Merlin's hands were busy, too, as if he didn't know what to do with them, but as Arthur watched, Merlin pressed fingers against his groin a moment before flushing again, and thrusting both hands behind him.

But a moment later as Arthur called his name, he finally, finally glanced Arthur's way. As he did, his eyes grew wide and there was a touch of question in his gaze. "I… I need to change."

"You need to strip." Arthur tried to keep the mixture of amusement and lust out of his voice but it was a little hard. It didn't help that he was still a lot hard, and playing with Merlin like this while fun, was achingly frustrating, too.

"What?"

Arthur thought it was pretty plain what he wanted, but sometimes Merlin was a little slow on the uptake. "Strip, as in take off your clothes."

Merlin's gaze settled on Arthur's somewhat flagging excitement, and throat working as he looked up again, said, "My clothes are wet."

"Then take them off and dry them by the fire. It's not that difficult, Merlin."

When Merlin just stood there chewing on his lip, Arthur decided that he'd had enough of waiting for him to catch up. Walking over to Merlin who stepped back a little as Arthur approached, he reached out and began to loosen Merlin's belt.

Merlin's sputters could be hilarious at times. "What are you doing? I won't have anything to wear if I take them off."

"Yes, that's the point. Try and keep up, Merlin."

Belt finally undone, Arthur let it clatter to the floor, then he reached up and pulled Merlin's tunic over his head and threw it into the pile of unwashed laundry in the corner. Merlin squawked at the treatment, rubbing his ears as he gazed at Arthur with tentative interest.

"Arthur, are you sure about this?"

Merlin looked so uncertain that Arthur couldn't stand it anymore. He was done with playing, done with their endless bickering, done with everything but taking Merlin to bed.

Reaching out, one palm cupping Merlin's cheek, Arthur leaned in for a brief, hard kiss. When it seemed like Merlin was going to go for more, following Arthur's mouth as he pulled back, Arthur just smiled. Then breath mingling, a hairsbreadth between them, he took Merlin's hand and pressed it to Arthur's groin.

Pleasure, warm and exciting, was hardening him once again. "Do I feel as if I'm unsure?"

There was laughter and joy in Merlin's voice as he cupped Arthur a bit. "No, you feel… wonderful." Then Merlin leaned forward, whispered into Arthur's ear, "But I won't be a single night's pleasure, even for you."

Arthur wanted to laugh for joy but instead, he snaked his hand down Merlin's braes, fingered the hardness there, then curled his hand around it and squeezed just a little. "Merlin, I've been planning this for months. A single night wasn't what I had in mind."

Merlin's answer was a soft groan and Arthur could feel him swelling under his hand.

It must have been enough because Merlin let go of Arthur, then began to furiously tug at his laces, toeing off his boots and stripping as fast as he could. Arthur snickered a little, licking at Merlin's ear, then realized that pleasure to be had would come sooner if he helped. So he did.

Then there were kisses, deep and dark and delicious. Merlin tasted of apples and sunshine and smoke, and his hands were wondrous, pulling pleasure out of trailing fingertips and pebbled skin.

Hunger and want and as they fell into bed, rumbling the covers as they did, the kisses turned into need, skin into sparks of desire, and Arthur couldn't understand it, didn't want to. He was too busy exploring Merlin's hip, marking possession in bruises and pressure and wonder. Too busy taking Merlin in his mouth and making him swell and cry out and beg. And when his mouth was flooded with Merlin's ecstasy, under the growing spiral of his own pleasure, there was a feeling of satisfaction, too, that Merlin was his and he was Merlin's and there would never be another for him.

That true love's kiss was no fairy tale, and for once, there would be a happy ending.

They had started out in disaster, with Gwen and Lancelot and Arthur's loss. But in the end, it was as it should be.

Merlin and Arthur.

Forever and always one.

The end


End file.
